Someone To Kiss At Midnight
by Corinna McDonald
Summary: A look back at the New Year's Eves past of Grissom and Sara. GSR.


A/N: First of all, a huge thanks to **Gabesaunt**, who beta'd for me on this one. This story would not have turned out half as well as it did without her, so major thanks. I'd also like to thank anyone who still has the guts to click on a link to any of my stories, seeing as how I'm the Worst WIP Writer Ever. But rest assured, this is definitely a oneshot. So no waiting for my totally erratic updates.

December 31, 1992

_I should make a resolution_, Sara decided. She'd never really bothered before. She saw her friends resolve to quit smoking, (broken by January 10th) quit drinking, (broken by January 14th) and lose weight (broken by Valentine's Day, when the single girls scarfed down a box of chocolates and pretended that they didn't care about being dateless.)

But Sara was twenty-one this year. The final step into adulthood. She could drive, vote, and legally buy liquor.

_I resolve to…_Sara frowned. She was skinny enough and she saw no point in saying that she would stop drinking and smoking when she knew it was a bald-faced lie.

"Sara, I'm going to Danny's New Year's Eve party. You sure you don't want to come with?" Jenny, Sara's roommate raised her eyebrows.

"No thanks, Jenny. I'm fine."

"Okay." Jenny threw Sara a skeptical look. "You should be more spontaneous this year, Sara. Loosen up. It'll be good for you." With that, Jenny exited the room and left Sara considering her suggestion.

_Is that what I should resolve to do? Be more spontaneous?_ Sara nodded to herself. _I'm going to start the new year right._

_This year I'm not going to run away from my problems._ Gil Grissom resolved. _I'm going to look them in the proverbial eye and confront them._

_Starting with buying a tux for Marilyn's goddamn New Year's party._

Grissom sighed. That was unfair. Marilyn Finch had been nothing but nice to him. She'd decided that for the duration of the time he was teaching at Berkeley, it was her responsibility to make sure that Grissom had at least a few friends.

Finally, Grissom managed to pick out a tux, bowtie, and cummerbund. _Marilyn will be so pleased._

"Sara, I'm so glad you could make it!" Sara's calculus professor, Marilyn Finch, was clearly well on her way to working up the perfect buzz for the evening. "Anne will be so happy to see you."

Sara didn't tell her that she'd already seen Marilyn's sixteen-year-old daughter ten minutes ago, mixing some Fatorade – ¼ Gatorade, ¾ hard liquor of choice, probably Grey Goose, pinched from Marilyn's liquor cabinet.

"You have to meet the new professor, Gil Grissom. He's teaching that seminar you're taking next semester. You two will have so much to talk about."

At 11:30, Anne offered Sara a supposedly virgin margarita. One sip of Anne's "virgin" drink left Sara's eyes burning, but she drank the rest of it for lack of a reason not to. At 11:40, Sara found herself engaged in a discussion about dead bodies and bugs with Gil Grissom, the handsome professor. His blue eyes remained clear, a sure sign that he hadn't partaken of Anne's concoctions. Or had an extremely high alcohol tolerance.

At 11:55, Marilyn passed out glasses of champagne. _I resolve to be more spontaneous_. Sara told herself. _God, Dr. Grissom is handsome. Be spontaneous Sara, just kiss him. It's New Year's and you're not his student yet. At midnight, just grab him and kiss him. It's expected. At midnight, you kiss somebody._

"_5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year!_" Somebody yelled and the band struck up Auld Lang Syne. Sara threw back her glass of champagne and pressed her lips to Gil Grissom's.

"Happy New Year!" She said.

"Uh…Happy…Happy New Year." Grissom coughed.

December 31, 2000 

_It was good of Nick to invite Sara to his New Year's party._ Grissom mused. _It will help her adjust_. He glanced to his protégé. His beautiful, young protégé, whom he could never have. Just thinking about it made him long for one of Marilyn's daughter's drinks. It might taste like hell, but it dulled the memory like nothing else.

And, no doubt, it was the cause of Sara's kiss that night at Marilyn's party. She might have been able to recite the alphabet backwards, but Grissom suspected that had more to do with her uncanny ability to have completely useless talents – such as reciting the alphabet backwards – than her sobriety.

"Hey Griss, brought you some champagne." Sara smiled brightly and offered him a flute of bubbly.

"Thanks." Grissom smiled gently.

_As handsome as the night I met him._ Sara glanced across the room to her supervisor. _More so, if possible._ Sara loved the way the silver touched the hair at his temples.

Unfortunately, she couldn't kiss him this year. Not in front their co-workers and Nick's friends. But she still wanted to ring in the new year with Grissom. She grabbed a glass of champagne off the table in Nick's living room. After a second of hesitation, Sara grabbed a second glass and found Grissom. "Hey Griss, brought you some champagne." She held out the glass and smiled.

"Thanks." Grissom returned the smile.

"5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year!" Nick shouted.

Sara took a sip of her champagne and then hugged Grissom and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Happy New Year, Grissom."

Grissom's face turned bright red and he looked awkwardly away from Sara. "Happy New Year, Sara."

December 31, 2002 

Grissom didn't attend Nick's annual party. Chances were that his hearing would cut out and he wouldn't hear the countdown to midnight anyway. He couldn't try to pretend that it wasn't going to kill him to want to kiss Sara at midnight and not be able to. So he stayed home. He didn't bother to make any resolutions.

_Why should I? It's not like anything will actually change_. Grissom opened a beer. _A toast to the new year._ He thought bitterly.

_New Year's Eve is also for reflecting on the past year._ Grissom's brain reminded him. _Your obsession with Sara is getting worse. The last year just proves that. Company policy is clear. Direct supervisors may not date an employee as long as he or she is responsible for completing said employee's performance evaluations_.

Grissom swallowed the last of his beer and briefly debated opening another. As he walked to the recycling bin to dispose of his beer bottle, Grissom pictured Sara in some New Year's Eve party dress, which would no doubt exhibit legs that stretched on for eternity. The dress became clearer in his mind. Black, Sara's favorite color. And curve hugging, with a scoop neck.

_Direct supervisors may not date an employee._

Sara searched Nick's house for Grissom. She'd dressed differently to catch his eye. A shimmering peach silk knee-length dress with a deep vee. Stiletto heels that made her even taller than her usual 5'9" and a slim silver chain led down her breastbone, pointing down the v-neck.

If everything went right, Sara planned to have Grissom clasp his mouth onto her chest and work his way down until he could go no further without removing her dress. His broad, callused hands would slide from her shoulders, down her back and to the zipper at the back of her dress. Sara could almost imagine the slow, seductive rasp that the zipper would make and the feel of Grissom's hands following it down, down, down. She could practically hear the thump of his heartbeat against her chest and feel his warm breath against her neck.

Sara crossed her legs and took a sip of wine. It was really too bad she hadn't brought her own Fatorade this year. She could use a little Liquid Courage to steel her nerves before she seduced her boss.

Grissom hadn't shown up by 11:45 and Sara started to feel a little silly for having spent so much on a dress that Grissom probably wasn't ever going to see. Sara left at 11:50, having no desire to watch her friends hug and kiss and celebrate the new year.

She rang in 2003 at a stoplight on Fremont Avenue, watching a hooker cuss out an unlucky officer who'd drawn shift that night.

December 31, 2003 

Sara saved her money on a dress for New Year's Eve. Grissom had made it abundantly clear that nothing was ever going to happen between them.

Still, she couldn't help but admire how the blue silk tie she'd given him a decade ago brought out his eyes. She doubted he even remembered how the tie had come into his possession, or that Sara had tied it on him that evening she'd given it to him. They'd both barely been able to breathe.

Greg offered her a beer, which she gratefully took, and at midnight, she hugged Greg and kissed him on the cheek. She even shared a couple of dances with him. Sara forced herself to pretend that she was having a good time until even she almost believed it.

Only once did she catch Grissom watching her, disapproval etched into his handsome features.

Grissom had spent an hour debating whether or not to wear the blue silk tie that had been given as a gift from Sara. It made him feel handsome and close to Sara, but what if she didn't remember how he'd gotten the tie? Or worse, what if she did? Grissom managed to tie an acceptable half-Windsor know, but his didn't look as nice as Sara's had and his hands certainly didn't feel as good on his neck.

Sara was all in black, as he expected. She carried it off like no other woman could. Grissom watched her accept a beer from Greg. He managed to look away before Sara caught him staring. Grissom retreated to a corner of the room and watched jealously as Greg kissed Sara on the cheek and hugged her. She even laughed. Grissom didn't manage to look away that time.

Could Greg actually pose a threat? Had Grissom actually ignored his last chance with Sara? _Am I too late?_

Sara's eyes held his for a moment, challenging him. Grissom looked away first.

December 31, 2005 

Sara decided to wear the peach dress again. The only person who might remember that she'd already worn it was Catherine, and she wouldn't care. Sara started getting ready at five o'clock. She took a long shower and then carefully blew her hair dry, adding a little extra curl to it. She had a light dinner, knowing that Nick was going to only serve snacks and alcohol. At 8:00, she knocked on Nick's door.

"Wow, Sara!" Nick whistled. "Come on in. Grissom is behaving really weirdly. Maybe you can figure out what's wrong with him."

Sara shook her head. "Rope Catherine into doing it."

"She said to rope you into doing it." Nick laughed. "The two of you can work it out."

"Let him be." Sara hung up her coat. "It's New Year's Eve. Let's have a good time!"

Sara tried to ignore Grissom the whole evening, but when he snuck off just before midnight, she couldn't resist following him. Sara found him in the guest bedroom, staring at the photos of the team that Nick had hung up. "Hey." She said quietly.

Grissom turned around. "Hi." His breath caught in his throat. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks." Sara picked up a picture of herself from a crime scene three years previous. "He took that picture to use up the last of the roll." Sara murmured.

"How come you aren't out there? It's almost midnight."

"Why aren't you out there?" Sara retorted.

"No one to kiss at midnight." He shrugged.

Sara narrowed her eyes. That was an awfully honest-seeming answer.

"What about you?" He asked again.

Sara refused to reveal the real reason. "Same reason." She blushed.

The countdown started in the other room. "_10…9…"_

"Sara, I –" Grissom gave the teeniest of frowns. "You really do look beautiful."

"Thanks."

Grissom gave up on trying to articulate whatever it was he wanted to say and cupped a hand around Sara's neck and pressed her lips to his.

_That's it. This can't go on anymore. I've spent six years making Sara and making myself miserable for something that won't last a day past when I retire. _Grissom sat in the chair opposite Undersheriff McKeen's desk.

"Thank you for meeting with me, sir. I know it's New Year's Eve."

"You said it was urgent." The undersheriff settled back into his chair.

"It is." Grissom handed him a resignation letter. "I'm giving my two weeks."

The undersheriff gave Grissom a funny look. "I'm sorry; I could have sworn you just said you were resigning."

"I am. I need this kept quiet. I don't want it to be a big deal around the lab that I'm leaving." Grissom said.

"Is there a particular reason for this?" The undersheriff waved the letter. "I'll be frank with you, Gil. Forensic entomologists aren't exactly a dime a dozen. The lab needs you. I'm sure Sheriff Burdick could see his way to compromising so that you could stay at the lab."

Grissom weighed his options. So far McKeen had been extremely reasonable to deal with, but Grissom wasn't comfortable revealing his personal life to his co-workers, never mind his boss. He shifted uncomfortably. "I need someone else to handle CSI Sidle's evals."

McKeen raised an eyebrow. "May I ask why?"

"I'd rather not say, sir."

"Is there a problem with Sidle? Does the department need to take any disciplinary action against her?"

"No!" Grissom sat up straight. "Nothing like that. I just need someone else to take care of her evals from now on. I never get them in on time and –"

McKeen held up a hand. "I'll talk to Burdick."

Grissom finished tying the bowtie around his neck. _You don't need a guide, you need a woman._ Catherine's words echoed in Grissom's head. _God willing, Catherine._

It was really a good thing that Grissom wasn't holding a drink when he first saw Sara, or he would have dropped it. She was wearing some kind of silk dress that outlined her form so nicely that Grissom was actually envious of the dress.

It wasn't the sort of dress that he would have picked out for her. _Oh God, am I too late? Is there someone else?_ Another horrible thought occurred to him. _McKeen isn't stupid. He probably knows I have feelings for Sara. Did I basically humiliate myself for no reason?_ He'd been quiet before, which Nick had interpreted as "weird behavior," but now Grissom was downright nervous.

Just before midnight, not wanting to catch Sara with her new boyfriend, Grissom quietly exited to the guest room. Surprisingly, Sara followed him. "Hey." She stepped beside him.

"Hi." The full effect of the dress stunned him for a moment. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks." She picked up the photo Grissom had been staring at. "He took this picture to use up the last of the roll."

"How come you aren't out there? It's almost midnight."

"Why aren't you out there?" She shot back.

"No one to kiss at midnight." _I'm trying to avoid seeing you kiss whomever that dress is for._ "What about you?"

"Same reason."

_No boyfriend. Hallelujah._

He nodded. "Sara, I –" Great. Apparently trying to tell Sara that he loved her turned him into a blithering idiot. "You really do look beautiful." _Great job, Gil. Repeat yourself. That won't seem odd._

She thanked him again.

"_10…9…8…"_ The countdown started in the other room.

_Seven seconds to make a decision. This is worse than trying to figure out which wire on a bomb to cut. And only slightly more dangerous._

_"3…2…1…Happy New Year!"_

Amidst strains of Auld Lang Syne, Grissom kissed Sara. He didn't care that he was messing up her hair. He didn't care that his heart felt like it was about to explode. The only thing that mattered was that he was kissing Sara Sidle. That was all he could bring himself to care about.

"Grissom." Sara muttered. "Grissom, no. This…this doesn't fix everything."

Grissom slowly drew away from Sara. "I'm sorry, Sara. I…"

"You've said that you're sorry before." Sara refused to put too much stock in what he was saying. He'd said pretty words before.

"I tried to resign tonight." He said quietly.

Sara straightened. "What?"

"I tried to resign. Lab policy states that no supervisor may date an employee whose performance evaluations he is responsible for. So I was going to resign. If I wasn't your supervisor any more, then I wouldn't have to worry about the job."

"You were going to resign over me?"

"Well, not just over you, but it was a factor."

Sara bit her lip. It was a new ballgame, now that he'd admitted to her that he'd tried to resign. That was action. Wait…tried to resign. "What do you mean tried to resign?" She narrowed her eyes.

"McKeen offered me a deal. Someone else is going to take over your performance evals. We'll be on probation for six months to prove that we can work together without incident. If you're still willing to give this a shot, I'll do everything in my power to make it work."

Sara took in a shuddering breath. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." Grissom smiled softly and touched his lips to hers again.

December 31, 2006 

New Year's Eve was tempered by the knowledge that Grissom would soon be leaving. They managed to sneak away for a few minutes here and there, stealing kisses when they could.

Unsurprisingly, Grissom was in the guest bedroom. "So…four more days." Sara faked nonchalance.

"Yep."

"You have to tell the team eventually." Sara took his hand. "Gil, I need you to talk to me. You're leaving for four weeks. That's, well…it's longer than you've really been away since we got together."

"I still love you." Grissom assured her. "My sabbatical doesn't change that."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"I'm fine. I just need a break." Grissom kissed the palm of Sara's hand. "How would you feel about spending some time in Massachusetts?"


End file.
